


From Down Below

by tropicoola (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Multi, Mystery, New York City, the galra are still around dw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tropicoola
Summary: Lance is a young aspiring photographer who goes to college in New York, life is pretty decent for him until the night of his first art exhibition goes horribly wrong, a boy who says he knew Lance in a previous life appears, and he starts hearing voices from every form of body of water.





	1. Art Exhibition

             The room was abuzz with fans and critics of every kind, people dressed up nicely and wandered around the room in a languished, nonchalant way. Filled with meaningless chatter and soft jazz music you’d think you’d only hear from the roaring 1920s, the world around Lance, a young and aspiring photographer, had changed from a troubled teenager in a small town in Cuba, to a world of new beginnings, open doors, and a grand and opulent opportunity, wrapped in a perfect box of nicely dressed art connoisseurs; ready for him to take his first step into his future career.

            The amount of love he had for New York at that moment was nothing compared to the way he watched, with fulfilled pride, the people crowding around his photograph. It was a perfect snapshot of Fifth Avenue during it’s busiest hour, it’s busiest day, and everyone in the portrait were photographed in perfect unison to create an astounding, candid, black silhouette of a lion’s head.

            Lance was extremely unused to this situation; the sudden praise and adoration for his artwork were seldom things he received back home. Lance downed his entire glass of champagne and watched in, now, thoughtless wonder, as he glanced at his watch – 2:34 A.M, the midnight art exhibition really meant ‘from midnight to morning, marvelous, magnificent, magnum opus after magnum opus!’. As flattering as the tagline was, Lance couldn’t help but need to sleep, so fighting off that urge could only be done by tasting the burn of alcohol down his throat.

            Takashi Shirogane, Lance’s photography teacher, sighed, “Lance, it’s not vodka – it’s champagne, don’t drink it like that.”

            Lance only slapped his left shoulder, hard, “It’s okay, Shiro! I know it’s not vodka, that’s why I’m not drunk, see? I’m perfectly fine! Hah, just enjoying my first taste of fame!”

            Lance needed it, for the lack of sleep and for the over-compensation of people coming up to him and telling him that a certain dropout from Columbia-freaking-University who turned down a fully paid tuition fee had submitted a _movie_ to the midnight art exhibition, only for it to be compared to Lance’s _photograph_. Lance was feeling particularly agitated, prideful, and tired that night. He didn’t need this random guy to show him up tonight; it was supposed to be _his_ night.

            Shiro narrowed his eyebrows, “Alright then, I have some business in the other room there but please try to keep yourself under control.”

            Lance nodded, “Yeah okay.”

            “Also, Lance, no more flirting tonight _please_.” Shiro said, “It’s best to keep things strictly platonic tonight, I don’t want you getting on the wrong foot with these people. They can really help you in the future if things go right.”

            “Oh Shiro, don’t worry too much!” Lance grinned, “I know you’re my teacher and all but we’re only two years apart, you’ve known me since we were just teenagers, we can just chill here like we used to.”

            “I don’t think I have to remind you that this isn’t our old treehouse again, Lance,” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look I’m sorry for being a killjoy here but the road you took to get here was not an easy one, and I don’t want you ruining your future because you can’t hold your alcohol or refrain from hitting on the third person you’ve seen here.”

            Lance shrugged, “I don’t know Shiro, I think maybe if we kicked out all the uglies and kept all the hoties we might be able to relive that treehouse once more.”

            “Like when me and your mother found those pin-up posters from Playboy magazine in our old treehouse?” Shiro snorted, fondly. “Wasn’t that _your_ dream, Lance?”

            “Oh my God,” Lance punched Shiro on the shoulder, jokingly, “Can we not? Don’t you have some people to mingle with? We do not need a relapse on the day I thought I’d end our friendship. Snitch.”

            Shiro laughed and teased Lance a bit more, eventually he left him alone with a small smile on his own face.

            Once Shiro was gone, Lance nearly dropped to the floor in exhaustion. Quickly, he pulled himself upright again and downed two more, ‘searing’ glasses of champagne to keep himself awake.

            “Oh, God, that burns – ”

            Lance spent the next hour meandering through the halls until, suddenly; he makes eye contact with a person across the hall. The person he saw was searching the room frantically until he caught sight of Lance, then he pushed through the crowd of people in a straight line – heading straight for him.

            Lance pushed his hair back and leaned against the wall next to him, mentally preparing for a suave pick-up line. However, the moment the person got to Lance, he wasn’t able to get a mere two words out before the guy cut him off.

            “Have you been having weird dreams lately?”

            Lance only blubbered out a: “ _What_?”

            The guy ran his hands through his black hair, which, much to Lance’s chagrin was an unkempt mullet. “Dreams! You know, like dreams about these… these freaking weird, giant lions and purple aliens and space and this girl with long, white hair and yourself in really, _really_ weird armor – ”

            Lance, albeit a bit badly, steeled himself and put his hands out in front of him, “Whoa, whoa, okay first of all, who are _you_? Second of all, how do you know what I’ve been dreaming of?”

            The man relaxed, “So I’m not the only one, I can’t believe I’ve actually found you.”

            “That is such a cheesy line, what are we in, some kind of chick-flick?”

            The man squared his jaw, “That was literally what you said to the girl over that corner there ten minutes ago.”

            Lance pressed his lips to a thin, annoyed line, “Whatever. I’m gon’ask you again, who are _you_?”

            “My name is Keith, your name is Lance and – ”

            “Wait, as in Keith – the guy who submitted the movie to the exhibition?”

            “I know you from a past – yes, that’s me, as I was saying – ”

            “You fucking asshole.”

            Keith blanched, “… what?”

            Lance, now roaring drunk, seethed, “You’re the college dropout, the snob who left an entire tuition-paid scholarship to Colombia University just because you had one _creative_ disagreement with the teachers about some alien conspiracy!”

            “It’s not a conspiracy, it’s the truth!” Keith barked back, “Why do you even care?”

            “Because, asshole, I was the one who got the scholarship because you dropped out!” Lance snapped.

            “Shouldn’t you be happy?”

            “I’ll be happy when people stop comparing me to you, when people stop trying to insinuate that you and me worked on our projects together when I’ve obviously never seen you in my life!” Lance half-yelled, “You’ve got a lot of gall to do this to me, Keith.”

            “Do what, exactly, Lance?” Keith’s shoulders began to shake in frustration.

            “You show up to the same art gala as me to gloat over your stupid film and probably to show off that just because you dropped out of Colombia University because of some creative disagreement with the teachers, you can still be successful whereas I had to work my butt off to even get here!” Lance said, in between grinding teeth, “Just when I thought things were turning out for the better, you show up and feel like you have to show me that you’re always better than me in every single fucking way possible!”

            Lance expected Keith, known for his hotheaded temper all throughout campus, to yell back at Lance, to insult him and confirm that Lance would never be good enough to get anywhere. However, Keith didn’t yell. Instead, Keith looked at Lance with pain and sadness; Lance hated it.

            Lance scowled and winced, the alcohol finally kicking in after having six glasses of champagne that night. He held his head in his hands and wobbled to and fro, fighting the urge to vomit right away. He looked at his wristwatch and found that it was already four in the morning, and all Lance wanted to do was to go home.

            “Lance.” Keith said, softly, “Are you okay?”

            “Don’t.” Lance snapped, then softly, “Just… don’t.”

            Right then, Lance toppled over only for Keith to catch him. The entire room gasped in shock and Keith finally realized that everyone had been watching them, including Shiro. Shiro rushed to Lance’s side and checked Lance’s pulse for a second, relieved that Lance was just drunk-asleep, he looked at Keith and told him to bring Lance to the lounge.

            “Down the hall,” Shiro said, “I’ll handle everyone else.”

            Shocked, Keith found himself running to the lounge with Lance in his arms. The lounge was a private room only to be used for the artists who contributed to the exhibition; it was empty when Keith had arrived. The entirety of artists were gone since dawn was fast approaching, but the view from the large windows showed not a trace of morning light. New York’s lights seemed to boom in the darkness of night, like a sea of unknown territory with no end in sight – only mile after mile of darkness, littered with bright stars that seemed to call out for a memory. Keith felt a sudden wave of nostalgia, as if he had seen something like this not too long ago, it felt like something was coming alive. There was an energy that moved across the waters of Hudson Bay, from south of the Atlantic Ocean and into the Upper Bay of New York.

Keith set Lance down on a lounge chair and sat beside him, pushing Lance’s hair back.

            Something unwanted existed in the world, something bad was going to happen.

            Keith put his hand on Lance’s cheek and nearly cried, tears beginning to cloud his vision. He hadn’t expected it to be this hard when he got to see Lance again, there was so much happiness and regret, all conjoining at the same time when he got to look at Lance’s face again.

            Keith turned away from Lance and buried his face into his palms, groaning softly.

            Keith waited until Shiro entered the room, and watched as Shiro sat across from them.

            Keith asked Shiro if he knew anything about a thing called _Voltron_.

            The look of familiarity that crossed Shiro’s face was all Keith needed as confirmation.


	2. Aftermath

             In his dreams, Lance saw an ocean stretching far across the horizon. Behind him was a small house, shielded by coconut tree palms and greenery, this was his home that housed his adoptive mother and himself. He remembered her smiles and the way her eyes would crinkle as they watched the sun beat down, toes stuffed into the sands of _Varadero_ _Beach_. Unfinished straw hats and necklaces they made together were strewn across the sands in between his mother and himself, a somewhat frequent occurrence. The sunset poured out the last of itself into the sea, waters looking less like the glittering scales of lagoon-blue mermaid scales and more like fractals of gold leaf floating on the surface. Even in his mind, the memories and sensations of home were still fresh and coated with longing.

             Then, as the sun poured out the finale of her golden goodbyes – a comet appeared from behind the clouds, hurtling down to the Earth. Suddenly, the backdrop of _Varadero_ _Beach_ melted away and was replaced by a dark desert landscape. Suddenly, Lance was on a metal roof with two of his friends, Pidge and Hunk. Suddenly, the sky lit up in an explosion of stars.

             “Voltron.” Pidge said.

             “Aliens.” Hunk whispered, real fear laced in his voice.

             Suddenly, there was running. Suddenly, he saw Keith and Shiro – and Shiro had a prosthetic arm. There was a chase across the dessert, flying off a cliff, sliding down a dark tunnel in a cave lit up with carvings.

             Suddenly, there was a great lion colored in blue.

             It’s yellow eyes glowed and looked deep into Lance’s eyes, then, without opening it’s mouth – it spoke.

             “Lance.”

             Her voice sounded like love.

             “… Lance?”

             Lance opened his eyes to find another pair, worriedly looking at him.

             “Lance, are you okay?”

             Bewildered, Lance actually wondered if he actually got to take a person home with him that night. Then, he realized, _nah_ – that was pretty unrealistic considering how nervous he remembered he was in the art gallery, all his one-liners were either variations of ‘Hey I just realized this, but you look a lot like my next boo’ or ‘There must be something wrong with my eyes, I can’t take them off you’ and the very confusing ‘I’d like to elevate you from a Wednesday to a Saturday night date’ (It was a Sunday that night). Not to mention he was so drunk he completely forgot all his witty art pick-up lines, like: ‘I’d take you home but the art gallery would think I was stealing a masterpiece’ or ‘You must be an artist because I find myself drawn to you’ or ‘At first I thought I was looking at a Monet, but you are so much more beautiful up close’, so much lost potential because of a few swigs of champagne.

             “Lance?”

             Also because he was a complete and total ass to Keith, the guy, who he just realized, was looking at him holding a glass of water out for him.

             “You cool?” Keith tilted his head.

             Lance shot up from the bed and yelled, “I’m so sorry!”

             A wave of his hangover hit him and he groaned in pain, only for Keith to coax him to take the glass of water even more. “Drink up, it’ll help.”

             “Thanks.” Lance said, quietly taking the cup from him and drinking it all in one gulp. “Um, where am I?”

             “My apartment, Newark.” Keith accepted the empty cup and walked to the sink to wash it. “133 Kearny Avenue, if you were wondering.”

             “Oh, um… did I – ?”

             “Pass out drunk over champagne? Yes.” Keith said, then with a bit more edge to his tone. “Cuss me out for no reason at all in front of everyone? Yes.”

             “I’m so sorry, I was really drunk and stuff just came out of my mouth – ” Lance ran his hands through his hair, “I really didn’t mean any of it.”

             “Yes you did, people tend to say the truth when they’re drunk.” Keith pointed out, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed.

             “I’m sorry.” Lance turned red in embarrassment with a guilty feeling clawing in his chest, he didn’t know what else to say.

             “Lance, it’s fine, I get it.” Keith said, a trying-hard-to-be-sympathetic smile on his face. “You were drunk and I’m sure you have your reasons as to why, you were probably stressed out because of this art gallery, I was too, I get it.”

             Lance turned to look at him, lips set into a curve of a smile Keith couldn’t understand. “I was really mean.”

             Keith shrugged and pursed his lips, “You were but I’m just trying to let you know I get it, competitive and stuff like that. We get that way when we start making art, and I heard the stuff about people comparing our projects – film and photography? I get that they’re taken using a camera but they’re… really different. One’s moving and one’s not, how is that so difficult?”

             “Tell me about it, it was really starting to grate on my nerves.” Lance suddenly straightened, looking nervous. “Not that your work isn’t good and all, it’s really great, I just – ”

             Keith smiled in a lopsided, boyish way, “I get it Lance, don’t beat yourself up too much about it. We can just forget it ever happened, right?”

             “You wanna start on a clean slate?” Lance asked, incredulous.

             “Yeah, why not?” Keith walked over to where Lance was and extended his hand, “Keith Lee.”

             “Lance, just Lance.” he shook Keith’s hand.

             “Alright,” Keith said, moving to the kitchen. “By the way, Shiro called earlier and told me that your class with him has been pushed to ten.”

             “Ten?” Lance blinked, “Uh… what time is it now?”

             “Nine fourty-nine.” Keith snickered.

             Lance yelled, cursing to himself as he grabbed his black coat, somehow falling on his butt as he jumped around trying to put on his socks and shoes. Keith leaned against the brick wall of his apartment, snickering.

             “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?!”

             “Consider it revenge for ganging up on me during the exhibition.”

             “AGH!” Lance marched up to Keith and pulled his phone up, “Ugh, here take my number.”

             Keith stopped smiling, his eyes wide and confused, “Your number?”

             “If you need anything, you can call me.” Lance showed him his phone and Keith scrambled to get his out, “Or text me. You’re a good artist and I want to work with you in future projects, lions and stuff, am I right?”

             Keith finished saving Lance’s number and could only, numbly, say, “Taxi is downstairs.”

             “You called one?”

             “Yeah.”

             Lance smiled, “You really are the mysterious Keith.”

             He patted Keith’s shoulder and said a ‘see you later’ before bolting out the door and finding, just as Keith had said, a yellow taxi waiting for him. He opened the door and pushed himself inside, the driver greeted him and asked where Lance wanted to go.

             “Columbia university, and please hurry.”

             New York never ceased to amaze him with the aesthetic of rainy, dreary days painted on a backdrop of neon lights and concrete streets. The buildings stretched tall into the sky like giants with windows that were like mirrors, yellow taxis poured down the street and people buzzed around on the sidewalks. People dressed in long, warm coats on days like these, a myriad of monochrome umbrellas in their hands. Lance stepped out into this landscape and paid the driver with a good tip. His watch read fifteen minutes past ten and Lance swore, he bolted for his class – still dressed in last night’s white dress shirt and black slacks, shiny Italian leather shoes, and holding his black dress coat over his head to shield him from the rain. He caught his reflection in the mirror of a window and took in the frazzled, greasy-haired, tired looking man in the reflection.

             Lance tried to smile and ran his fingers through his hair to at least look somewhat presentable. He looked outwards into the storm and his smile disappeared, he never liked the rain in New York, the droplets fell so fast that they looked like white bars to a prison in this city.

             Lance’s run slowed to a fast-paced walk down the halls. He clutched his black dress coat close to him and watched as his expensive shoes, gifted by his sister, covered the floor with rainwater.

             It wasn’t as if he hated New York, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful he got a chance to go to such a good school and live with a well-off sister. He was grateful he was given an opportunity to study a field he was extremely passionate in, but with passion comes burn-out and the burden he felt was placed upon him to become the indisputable best, Lance knew he’d come far but was this the end? Was this all there was to his life, the boy who escaped near abandonment as a child but found, out of sheer luck, by his sister?

 _There must be more meaning_ , he thought often. Shrouded by the hallowed halls of Colombia University, Lance felt dwarfed by the size of it all. He could never deny the way his heart raced each time he entered the building, the anxiety and pressure of trying to prove he was good enough taking hold each time. Although top of his class, it was never enough. He knew in his heart that where there was a sky, there will always be another sky above it, and so on and so forth. Lance knew he was destined for better things, to reach the sky above the sky.

             When class ended, Shiro called out to Lance to stay back a few minutes to talk with him.

             “How are you feeling?”

             “Ugh, not that good.”

             “You’re a real light-weight, aren’t you Lance?” Shiro laughed softly, sorting through his papers.

             Lance smiled wryly, “Thanks.”

             “Your sister was worried about you, thought you’d at least pop by home before heading to school.” Shiro said, “She called me about it multiple times.”

             Lance felt warm, “She did?”

             Shiro looked up from his papers, “You know she cares about you.”

             “I know.”

             “I’m happy you two found each other, Lance.” Shiro smiled, “I really am, and I’m happy you’re in New York – chasing after your dream, I know you can achieve whatever it is you dream of.”

             Lance smiled, genuine. “Always the supportive friend.”

             Shiro grinned, “Best-friend.”

             “I appreciate it, Shiro, thank you.”

             “Of course, Lance,” Shiro replied, “I just wanted to let you know to try not to be late for class next time, and to hurry home to your sister okay?”

             “Okay, are you still coming over for dinner?”

             Shiro nodded, “I’ll see you around, Lance.”

             “See you later.”

             It was twelve by the time class was finished, the clouds had parted and a cold wind blew through the campus grounds, the grounds were fresh with fallen leaves and branches from the mild-storm that blew this morning. Taxis continued to pour down the streets and Lance called out to one.

             “Where to?” The driver asked.

             “66 East 11th Avenue, please.” He paused, “and hurry if you could.”

             Someone was waiting for him at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this fic, no excuse I know.
> 
> In this chapter you will find sprinkles of foreshadowing of what might happen in the future as well as more development regarding Keith and Lance's relationship, a bit of insight to what kind of relationship Lance and Shiro has, as well as the reveal that Lance has a well-off sister who he lives with.
> 
> His apartment is located in 66 East 11th Street, and if you google that up you'll get some images of it and you'll see that Lance has a sister who is seriously, incredibly, well-off. Living spaces like these are very hard to come by in the heart of New York, since land is considered extremely pricy there.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed!


	3. Gracious Tempest

            Lance fumbled for his keys before the door finally opened, revealing his frazzled looking sister. Her dark hair was a tangled mess and her eyes were red, bloodshot as if she stayed awake the entire night. Her usually tanned, healthy skin looked sickly and her lips were chapped.

            “Hey Lance,” she said, her voice hoarse. “How was the exhibition?”

            “April,” he said, eyes wide. “You look awful, are you okay?”

            April smiled and wiped the sleep out of her eyes, she stepped aside to let Lance in.

            “Was the exhibition good?” she yawned, “I waited for you last night, I was excited.”

            “Oh.” Lance felt his heart plummet, “I’m so sorry, April.”

            “Did something happen?”

            Lance didn’t want to lie to his sister, “I… got drunk and passed out.”

            April froze. “Oh.”

            “I’m – ”

            “It’s okay, Lance.” April said, “I know it takes time.”

            Lance stood there, guilt creeping over him. He felt like he had to say something more, he felt embarrassed.

            He took a deep breath; the air felt like hot lead in his mouth, “Are you going to throw me out?”

            Silence.

            “I didn’t do anything bad,” he said. “I promise, I’m sorry I made you worry. I won’t stay up too late – ”

            “Lance,” she cut in. “It’s fine.”

            “It’s not fine, is it?” Lance fired back, taking a step towards her. “Look at how tired you are, that’s my fault.”

            She only stared as he continued in a shaky voice, “When I came here, I promised that I wouldn’t cause you trouble.”

            Suddenly Lance felt like a stranger in this luxurious apartment, in the drenched clothes and dirty Italian leather shoes. He felt so out of place, what difference did these expensive clothes and shoes and home make in his life? Who did he see in the mirror as he pushed his hair back? Just a boy who thought he could live the life of a person who was long dead, just a boy who thought he could get over the death of his adoptive mother. Grease was no substitute for hair-gel, a sister was no substitute for a mother, and he was no substitute for a lost brother. Lance shut his mouth.

            April approached him and Lance was frozen in place, he could only stare as she put her palm on his cheek, and he knew that he was crying.

            “You don’t have to worry, you don’t deserve the trouble, you don’t deserve – ”

            “I chose to.” April said, eyes fierce. “I chose to find my brother for half my life, I chose to be a lawyer to find you and the people who hurt our family, I chose the worry, the endless nights of crying, and all the trouble in the world – but I would never trade it away.”

            Lance felt his shoulders shake, his hands grow clammy, and the sight of her face being fogged up by tears.

            “I’m here for you, Lance.” April’s voice sounded like a distant smile. “I don’t care how much I have to worry or be troubled because my family is more important than anything. All this is for you, Lance, and I don’t want you to worry about anything – I am never going to abandon you, now come here.”

            April wrapped her arms around him and he felt the weight lift off his shoulders.

            Life was such a nightmare, but being with her made it feel like a dream. A dream that started the very day his mother passed away; and although they weren’t related by blood he swore he’s never met a person more alike to him. Lance was an orphan adopted by a poor woman who only had a small shack as a home on the shores of _Varadero_ _Beach_ , she sold colorful hand-made necklaces and hand-woven hats for tourists on a small cart for a living. They built their lives upon the sands of _Varadero_ _Beach_ and he grew up with his toes stuffed into the waters, the salty wind in his hair, and the bright ocean, reflected in his eyes. So when his mother passed of old age, he did nothing but sit on the beach far-away from prying eyes – and watched the waves, imagining his mother walking on the waters like a fairy; laughing as she wove hats and necklaces from the water. He could almost hear the waters speaking in her laughter.

            It was there he met his sister, dark hair swaying in the wind, eyes like the ocean, and clearly not used to climbing rocks on the beach. He realized, at that moment, that this must be the woman in his mother’s will.

 

_With this will I leave my son, Lance, in the care of his biological sister – April Yvette._

_Signed, Marianette Clarisse._

            “Hello,” she was panting with sweat stuck to her forehead, but she smiled politely, “are you Lance?”

            She asked this question as if she had rehearsed it a thousand times before, smiled that polite smile a million times before.

            “Yes.” Lance said.

            To him, from the way she smiled even wider, it looked as if that moment was the first time she’d ever heard that answer.

            After, everything seemed like a blur. She took him shopping in all the best stores, bought his childhood house to preserve it, talked about what he wanted to do with his future (he said he wanted to do photography, but he’s only ever used the vintage camera his mother owned), and enrolled him into one of the best schools in New York.

            New York was astounded by his pictures of seemingly everyday items of his childhood taking on a similar theme. A picture of the clouds looked as if the face of a lion were ready to bite the blue sky, a picture of his mother weaving a hat surrounded by large trinkets that were shadowed by the setting sun to reveal a shadow of a lion behind her, a picture of his feet buried into the sand as the waters pulled away – revealing patterns that gave an inkling to a pair of eyes that belonged to a beast, and a picture of the stars that were so bright they looked as if they were calling out to the viewer in the shape of the constellation ‘Leo’.

            “When did you first take these pictures?” They asked him in an interview. “Why a lion?”

            “When I was eleven for the first one, then the others when I was thirteen, and the last just last year after my mother passed away. And I don’t know, I’ve never seen a lion before.”

            “Oh.” They said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

            Lance didn’t say anything more.

            In the dead of the night, as Lance laid in bed, body still warm from his hot bath, rain poured outside his window. Nights like these made him toss and turn, threatened by nightmares. Whenever it rained, Lance felt fear – because he swore he heard voices outside his window, felt a presence wanting to come in as rain pelted the window.           

            In his dreams, Lance never dreamt of anything more than laying flat on his bed as he stared up. Rain continued to pour in his dreams, flooding his room as the flames from the fireplace rose to the ceiling – a myriad of fireflies transformed into red and blue stars. In his dream, he heard a distant call from the rain and an even louder one from what he stared up at. He saw red stars, dwarf stars, worlds he couldn’t even comprehend – a woman with white hair and eyes like galaxies, crying in her sleep. She was separated from him by a thick piece of glass, he touched the surface of it and spoke to her; what words he spoke to her with he did not know, but from the way his tears dripped to the surface of the glass, he knew it was something sad.

            These dreams were frequent, but that night he dreamt of something different. He dreamt of the desert again. He dreamt of the comet again. He dreamt of the lion again. He dreamt of the voice again.

            She sounded like his mother.

            “It’s nice to finally see you, Lance,” the lion said, “I see you’ve met them all.”

            “Who…?” Lance asked, surprised his voice didn’t shake.

            “ _Yellow_ , _Red_ , _Black_ , _Green_.” her voice sounded like a smile, “Hunk, Keith, Shiro, Pidge.”

            “Who… who are you?”

            “A friend.” she asked, without missing a beat.

            Lance stepped closer, head cocked to the side. “You have my mom’s voice, but… I don’t know you. How do you know me? How do you know my friends? How do you know about Keith?”

            “I’ve known since the past, the future, the present.” her voice sounded like a sad cry, she sounded like a friend long-lost.

            Lance stayed silent, trying to understand.

            “I’m so sorry,” she said.

            “For what?” his eyes softened.

            “You can not rest just yet,” she said, “you will be given a great burden.”

            Lance spoke, “Why do you keep visiting my dreams?”

            “A power moves across the bays of New York, across the Atlantic, you must find it.” she said, “The sky beyond yours is blackened, a dark force is sweeping across the cosmos and claiming what was once not theirs.”

            Lance felt a strange emotion in his chest, “A dark force?”

            “It is heading straight for Earth, it’s going to take everything from your people.”

            The strange emotion disappeared when the mirage of the cave faded away into a barren landscape, but Lance – he knew exactly where he was. At the cusp of _Varadero_ _Beach_ , the place where he saw the sea was nothing but an empty, dark trench of dried up waters and fish bones. The lands behind him that were once filled with tall hotels and pretty beach umbrellas were torn down, a mountain of ash and bones left in it’s wake.

            Lance watched in horror as the wind came and swept up everything in a loud, thunderous roar. The ash covered his vision and whipped itself around him, distorting his sight. Inside the loud, howling winds he screamed out for the lion and asked what was happening.

            “What’s going on? What’s happening to my home?!”

            “Find me, before _it_ does.” She appeared like a ghost in the winds and ash, yellow eyes glowing like lighthouses on a dark stormy night out at sea. “I will appear to you again, once you’ve discovered the other missing pieces.”

            She waited for his response.

            There was, for a moment in time, silence in the howling wind and the wailing of a disappeared ocean.

            Then, a broken voice emerged from the winds with a ferocity of emotion and wealth of grief, it was a voice of a child. “Am I going to lose my mom?”

            The Blue Lion paused as she watched the grave of a woman appear .

            “Am I going to lose my sister?” The winds parted and revealed Lance’s crying face, his love-filled eyes, and the absurdity of his fragility reflected in the shaking shoulders of a seven year-old. “Am I going to lose it all?”

            Then, with conviction, she replied, “Not if you can help it.”

            A great wind roared in his face and Lance was shaken awake. The alarm clock next to him read four A.M and Lance cursed at himself, he’d been asleep for over ten hours. He reached over the bed to fish out his phone and went to call Hunk, his friend. After waiting for a few beeps, a groggy sound came out of the speaker.

            “Hello?”

            “Hunk, I’m sorry I’m bothering you again but – ”

            “Nah man, no worries.” Hunk yawned, “I’m supposed to go out for a run in half an hour anyways, I’ve been awake for the past ten minutes.”

            “Still doing that paper on how running affects your metabolism?”

            Hunk hummed, “Not as simple as that but yeah, was it the nightmare again? Did you see her again?”

            “No, I saw something different.”

            “Seriously?” Hunk sounded surprised, “After years of dreaming of that girl, it suddenly changed? What gives?”

            “Thoughts exactly.” Lance groaned, “Last night and two nights ago, consecutive dreams about that… lion, talking to me.”

            Hunk paused, “A lion? What color?”

            “Yeah.” Lance said, “Weird question, but even weirder answer – okay get this, it was blue.”

            “Blue?” Hunk sounded extremely surprised, “What did it say?”

            “Hunk, why are you asking these questions?”

            “Lance, do you wanna go running with me?” Hunk said, “I think it’ll be easier if I tell you then.

            “What?”

            “We’ll go to the zoo afterwards, I’ll ask Pidge to come too.”

            “Hunk, what’s going on?”

            “I promise I’ll tell you then.”

            Lance paused, “Okay, I’m sorry – I’m just freaked out is all and you’re not making sense is all.”

            “Yeah, it’s okay.” Hunk replied, a smile in his voice. “I’ll see you there, then?”

            “Yeah, oh – hold on.”

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Isn’t today a school day for Pidge?”

            “No, don’t you remember what day it is today?”

            Lance frowned, “No, what day is it?”

            “It’s memorial day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Since I did post chapter 2 super late I thought it would only be fair if I released chapter 3 super early!  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, stay tuned for the next one!


	4. Rainfall and Revelations

            Memorial day had always been a day of summer rain, as the gloomy May turned into the blistering heat of June, so were the feelings of sadness of those who lost dear ones in the line of battle and the happiness, the pride of knowing someone you loved died for the greater good. Lance could never forget the great tsunami of relief that washed over him when he saw his best friend standing in front of his house on _Varadero_ _Beach_ , smile still on his lips with fresh scars on his arms and legs. He never forgot how grateful he was to have Shiro come home safe, even if he was missing an arm. He couldn’t forget the tightness of the hug they shared and the wash of tears when his friend came home; aside from his mother – up until that moment, Lance had never realized he could love a person so much.

            On May 29th, 2017, Lance walked out to Central Park with his running shoes, mind filled with feelings he couldn’t comprehend. The haunting voice of the lion he saw in his dreams followed him like a plague, the drizzle of rain seemed to speak voices to him – _‘Lance. Lance… Gracious Tempest, Listen… Listen, Say The Name…_ ’ – but he swore it was just the song coming from his earphones.

            “Lance!” A voice called out.

            Lance looked up and smiled, “Hey Hunk.”

            “Good morning,” Hunk grinned, “glad you made it.”

            “Good to see you again, man.” Lance said, “thanks for inviting me.”

            “Pft, well you, me, and Pidge didn’t start a dream club together for nothing.” Hunk laughed, “That’s why I called a meeting here, club function.”

            Lance hummed in agreement.

            “I know your sister doesn’t believe in all this stuff,” Hunk said, softly, “but there’s nothing wrong with you just because you believe, Lance. It’s good that you reached out to Pidge and me about your dreams first. I want you to know that.”

            Lance smiled, “I’m glad I did.”

            Hunk smiled back, pausing, “What did you dream about, exactly?”

            “How about I tell you while we jog?”

            “Sure.”

            They sped up their pace to a comfortable jog together.

            “What did you dream about?” Hunk asked.

            “Well,” Lance began, “I dreamt about a blue lion who had my deceased mother’s voice and my home in Cuba being destroyed, seas being leveled by a comet hurtling down the Earth. I dreamed that you and Pidge were there, both of you staring up at the night sky – at some desert somewhere. You said something about aliens and Pidge said this really strange word… ‘ _Voltron’_. Does that ring a bell?”

            “Yeah,” Hunk said, slowly. “I’ve never told you about my dreams, have I?”

            Lance shook his head, “No, I don’t think so.”

            “Well our meetings haven’t been all too frequent since school’s started anyways, but – well, my dreams are a lot like yours.”

_What?_

            “They started out the same, I dreamt of the girl with white hair locked in a glass case. I dreamt of her crying and I dreamt up this feeling that I wanted to reach in and help her, I don’t know why.” Hunk took a deep breath, “Then that dream changed when I came to New York three years ago, I started dreaming about Pidge – crying, then she saw me and ran to me and asked me where her father was, where her brother was, if we were ever going home. I’ve known Pidge for so long and it’s for a fact that I know she has a mom and dad who are still here, and a brother who works as a scientist. Then, I started dreaming about you before you even moved here.”

            “Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

            “I’m getting to that,” said Hunk, voice clipped but polite. “I dreamt of you in armor just like Pidge’s, extraterrestrial type of stuff. I saw you sitting in this large room with blue lights around you, next to you was another guy with orange hair. You sounded sad, like you missed home. But that wasn’t the end of it, I dreamed about Keith and I saw him looking up at a black lion – then a red lion, he looked conflicted. Then I dreamt of Shiro – ”

            “Shiro?” Lance’s voice rose by an octave.

            “Yeah, he… he didn’t look too good. He disappeared so many times when I saw him. I saw him frequently when we were at The Great Salt Lake in my dreams, and I saw him as one person – but in the reflection of water I saw thousands of him. He stood so still, Lance, I thought he was a ghost. I thought all of you were ghosts. Yet I knew Pidge was real, then when I enrolled to Colombia you appeared and I saw Keith, and then I saw Shiro and I got scared – I started researching dreams from the time of the very first dream and I talked to Pidge about it and she told me she had similar dreams. I went to a medium about it, a therapist, and an expert on dreams. The last one told me that there was a high possibility that these dreams were of my past life, but they weren’t sure. At first I didn’t believe it, but when I met you and everyone else – I thought about whether we were destined to meet each other.”

            Hunk suddenly halted and Lance stopped a few steps in front of him, the drizzle turned into a thunderous roar of downpour – the tree they were under doing little to minimize the effects.

            Hunk raised his voice to overpower the rain, it sounded like a desperate call for help. “I thought to myself, what are we? Does this mean something? Are we part of something bigger? Or am I just crazy – am I an idiot to believe this all means something? I’ve planned out my entire life out for me, Lance, it’s been so hard to get where I am now and it feels like all my plans are being destroyed right in front of my eyes – I’ve never been a person who’s believed in the supernatural world, never believed in Aliens, or dreams of a girl with white hair, crying out to me. Yet here I am, here you are, here all of us are in New York as adults! Was the dream real, after all? Did we watch all those worlds crumble; did we save all those people? Were we heroes, were the stars our home, did we ever belong here? Do our lives here impact anything, is there a point to my struggle – to _our_ struggle to continue living as normal people here?”

            Hunk, drenched in rainfall, looked like a broken heart. His eyes were red and tired, and Lance could then see the bags under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders, and his sickly complexion. When their eyes met, Lance could see himself in Hunk’s eyes, a reflection to the tiredness embodied in Hunk.

Lance thought about what Hunk said for a moment.

            “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Lance began. “I don’t think that at all.”

            Hunk was silent, eyes focused on the ground.

            “I think you’re right.”

            Hunk looked up, surprise evident in his eyes.

            “When my sister brought me here, when Shiro came home to me on this very day all those years ago, when I met you and Pidge at the zoo for the first time, and when I met Keith too – I don’t think this was a coincidence.” Lance steadied his breathing, “and I don’t think we should be afraid of this.”

            The rainfall grew lighter.

            “We need answers, Hunk.” Lance said, “Do you think we should maybe start reaching out to them?”

            “I… I don’t know, maybe.” Hunk adverted his eyes. “I’m not sure, though. What if they get freaked out by this?”

            “Shiro wouldn’t,” Lance paused. “and neither would Keith, I think, not too much at least.”

            “Pidge, I think, could be reasoned with too.” Hunk nodded, voice noticeably out of breath and in disbelief. “We’re actually going through with this.”

            “That settles it, then,” Lance fished out his phone. “we’re going to have to start recruiting members, I’ll call up Keith and Shiro.”

            “We should meet up with Pidge soon, by the way.” Hunk checked his watch, “I set a time for ten A.M.”

            “It’s already nine fifty, too, I didn’t even realize.” Lance laughed, breathlessly. “Good run.”

            “I’m sorry I overreacted like that.” Hunk said, eyes now meeting Lance’s as he matched his pace with Hunk. “I didn’t want to scream.”

            “Of course you meant to, and it’s okay.” Lance smiled reassuringly, words sounding oddly familiar. “Everyone needs to let it out sometimes, I feel the same way too, sometimes.”

            “Thanks, Lance.” Hunk smiled genuinely, voice in complete sincerity. “You’re a good friend.”

            Lance grinned even wider, a sense of familiarity of those words blooming in his chest as, up above, the clouds began to part as sunlight poured down onto the Earth, the light filtering through the green of leaves as the two friends stepped out of the shade. The air was thick with the smell of water and grass, the park peacefully quiet as the only two inhabitants walked together in blissful silence like the calm after a storm, Lance couldn’t stop smiling.

            “What,” Hunk laughed. “are you smiling for?”

            Lance looked at Hunk and stared into his eyes for a moment, the image of a lopsided smiling friend of his with an orange bandana and eyes filled with the stars came to mind. Suddenly, Hunk’s red cheeks and tired eyes looked less sad and more like a those of a person who recently went out to party with alcohol – head filled with the blissful joy of complete completeness and a throb of elated happiness. Lance couldn’t help but crack a smile.

            “I feel like I’ve heard that line before.” Lance said, softly. “It feels good to hear it again.”

            Hunk smiled, softly in return. “It feels like home, doesn’t it?”

            “Yeah.”

            The waters in the park rippled and moved like the tides and Lance took note of something odd as he looked out to the streets just out of Central Park – in what should have been a busy and bustling hour in New York, there were no yellow taxis except for one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thank you for reading this so far! So sorry if this chapter seems boring, I wanted to shed some more light on the mystery of the dreams and the friendship between Hunk and Lance in this story! I do hope you liked it, if you have any advice or complaints feel free to comment! Thank you!!


	5. Eureka (1)

            “Absolutely not.” Pidge had her arms crossed over her chest, her body slumped over on the bench. “We’re disbanding this club.”

            “What?!” Hunk exclaimed, “Why?”

            Lance stared blankly at Pidge, “… What?”

            “We just found out the truth and we’re getting closer to finding out the reason we seem to be dreaming the same things,” Hunk pressed his lips to a thin line. “Why stop?”

            The three were sitting together near a food stall in Central Park Zoo, the sun was already high in the sky and the heat was blistering on that day in May. The temperature was getting to them as they tried their best to stay cool underneath a tree’s shade, each with a cup of soda and a cup of ice cream.

            “I’m not saying we need to stop,” Pidge corrected. “I’m saying that at this moment, there’s no use in having the club. We made this club so we could find each other, and that’s been done – Lance found Keith and we found Lance, which lead us to find Shiro. We can only move forwards and abandon the club, we need to start thinking less like a club and more like the Paladins of Voltron.”

            “That sounds super weird.” Lance remarked, “Sort of cool, but still weird.”

            Pidge lifted her shoulders, “I guess, but it’s the truth of the situation.”

            “Huh,” Hunk tried to smile. “We almost sound like heroes.”

            “That’s cause we are,” Lance grinned.

            Pidge shared a smile and pointed behind them, “Look who’s here.”

            Shiro and Keith were walking together, looking around trying to find the three sitting together. It was only when Lance called out to them that they finally turned to him, both with polite smiles on their face as they waved to him. Hunk and Pidge waved as well and made room on their table.

            “Hi,” Lance said. “Good morning.”

            “Good morning, Lance.” Shiro said.

            “Hi Lance,” Keith said, “Who are your friends?”

            “This is Hunk and Pidge,” Lance paused, “but I think you knew that already.”

            Keith’s expression turned surprised and confused, he raised a single eyebrow and looked at the two who were smiling with familiarity. “What?”

            “You’ve seen us in your dreams, right?” Hunk smiled a warm smile. “I’ve seen you in mine too.”

            “Mine, too.” Pidge added, smiling kindly, “I know this sounds weird, but it’s good to see you again, Keith.”

            Keith’s jaw slackened as he could only stare at the two until his voice bubbled up into a laugh of disbelief, eyes softening at the sight of the two. He turned to Lance and shook his head, the corner of his lip quirking up into his lopsided smile again.

            “So that night,” he said. “I was right, then.”

            “You were right.” Lance nodded, a kind and apologetic smile on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

            “No, it’s alright – God.” Keith covered his eyes with his gloved hand, “You guys don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you all.”

            Shiro smiled, softly, and put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I agree, it’s good to see all of you are safe.”

            “Safe?” Pidge echoed, eyebrows furrowing, “Was there ever a chance we wouldn’t be safe?”

            Lance pressed his lips to a thin line as Shiro lowered his arm to the surface of the table, face taking on a grim expression.

            “Shiro,” Lance spoke for him. “had had nightmares for his entire life about us.”

            “Nightmares?” Keith looked up from his hand, “What nightmares?”

            Shiro nodded, numbly. “I dreamt of losing my arm, in the worst way possible, and I dreamt I was a fighter in this ring filled with monsters. I dreamt of your brother there with me too, Pidge, but it was only for a moment.”

            “My brother?” Pidge blanched, “Matt?”

            “As well as your father,” Shiro confirmed. “Those were the initial dreams I had, I guess – were they foreshadowing what happened when I enlisted in the army? I’ll never know.”

            “Shiro,” Lance frowned. “you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.”

            “I can do a bit more,” Shiro smiled tiredly at his friend. “The dreams got worse though, I kept thrashing in my bed every night – I had extreme night terrors of Earth’s sky being blackened and these creatures called Galra coming down to conquer Paris, Tokyo, New York, Hong-Kong – they kept coming and coming and taking and taking and I couldn’t… I just…”

            Lance grabbed Shiro’s hand from across the table, “Shiro, stop – it’s okay. I can continue for you.”

            It was only then that Shiro realized his arm was shaking, he closed his eyes and felt his hand steady. “Okay.”

            Lance released his hand, “I’ve known Shiro since I was a kid, he’d sleepover with me often – where it be at my home or his, people usually think it’s because we were just close friends but it’s really because I’ve always been the only one who could wake him up from his dreams. His dreams are really bad, like you heard, and I think… that based on what Hunk just told me this morning, about if all of this was predestined, foreshadowed – ”

            Everyone turned pale.

            “I think the Galra have come back.”

            “That’s impossible,” Keith seethed. “I saw it in my dreams, we were done with them! Everyone was safe, we saved the day, we made sure they never got their hands on the universe – on our planet, how could they still…”

            Pidge frowned, “I agree but… it’s been so long since that time, right? Reincarnation can take a year to ten thousand years just so the right people can meet at the right time, what if… what if this is the case for us?”

            “How long have we been gone,” Keith said, angrily, brokenly.

            Hunk frowned, “I don’t know, but there are no records of the Garrison or of any hints that we might have gone to Pluto, let alone Kerberos. I think that, if there are no records, then what happened in our dreams – ”

            “Must have happened for more than hundreds of thousands of years ago.” Pidge’s eyes were wide, “This could be the case too, I’ve heard stories of civilizations that were way advanced than today’s that lived a long time ago, before the Greek or Roman; before anything, really.”

            “Do you think something happened to them?” Hunk asked.

            “It doesn’t matter.” Shiro said, surprising everyone with his steely voice. “All that matters now is that we find a way to stop them, I’ve seen my dreams and I’m more than sure that they’re coming.”

            “We need to find our lions,” Keith said.

            “Right,” Pidge nodded. “but where are they?”

            “None of us have dreamed of them,” Shiro said. “Do you think we should – ”

            “Wait,” Hunk said, “I’m sorry but… Lance, didn’t you dream of Blue?”

            “I did.” Lance blinked, eyebrows rising in surprise. “Oh my God.”

            “You dreamt of the blue lion?” Keith stared, slack-jawed.

            “Did you ask her where she was?” Pidge added, surprised herself.

            “No,” Lance said. “I didn’t ask her, but tonight, if I dream of it, I will. But she did tell me that I needed to find her.”

            Shiro pressed his lips together, “Your dreams have never been like that, why do you think she said?”

            Lance pursed his lips, “She said… something about a power moving across the bays of New York, far beyond the Atlantic, the sky darkening, and a dark force sweeping across the cosmos, and taking something that doesn’t belong to them. She also said it’s going to take everything from my people, which I really don’t – !”

            Lance grew even paler, eyes suddenly wide as he slowly turned his head to Shiro.

            “Shiro, doesn’t that match your dreams?”

            “It does.” Shiro said, shoulders shaking. “Oh God, it does.”

            “She said it’s heading straight for Earth!” Lance exclaimed, “I remember! She told me to find her, before It does! I think she meant – ”

            “The Galra.” Hunk echoed.

            “We need to go, right now.” Keith said, already standing up. “We’ll make a scene if we stay here, we need to find a safer place to talk about this.”

            “Who’d even listen to us?” Hunk said, “For all they know, we could just be talking about dungeons and dragons.”

            Keith looked up to the sky, “At this point, Hunk, we can’t be sure of anything.”

            “Where can we talk about this?” Shiro asked, “The university is out of question but Lance’s apartment might be okay, is that okay Lance?”

            “It’s okay with me.”

            “No,” Keith said, already walking away. “We need to go to my place.”

            “At Newark?” Lance matched his step, “Isn’t that further away?”

            Keith stopped and looked at everyone else, “I have something to show all of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, we'll see what happens next! Thank you for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Lance: 20  
> Keith: 20  
> Shiro: 22  
> Pidge: 17  
> Hunk: 20
> 
> I am in no way affiliated with Colombia University nor does this work of fiction depict Colombia University all too realistically.


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